Bokelskere.no

I totally get why people run races. After months and months of hard work, the excitement is like nothing I've experienced before. It's the night before Christmas.

Maybe you don't have to figure life out at all.
Maybe it just Is.

Mom sees the smile on my face and wraps an arm around me.
"I'm so, so proud of you."

It's nice hearing him say that if you work hard, you can do anything you want. I like knowing I can control my future.

"You caught me," he laughs. "I loved water skiing. I've never gone before."
"But you looked like a pro out there! How is that possible you're good at every sport?"
"That's just silly. I stink at ballet--my little sister tells me that when I try to copy her moves."

He daintily eats his piece as I chow down. "Don't eat the seeds! You'll grow a watermelon baby."

"What is up with the guys in your life squeezing my hand off?" he mutters, wringing his fingers out.
"Just protective, I guess."
"Yeah? Well, I'm gonna have to stop shaking their hands or I won't have a hand left to beat you at badminton later."
I chuckle.

What was I thinking, touching Jeremiah's arm like that? He must think I'm a complete Creepy McCreeperson.